Vernon Before Petunia
by shadowcat15
Summary: Vernon wasn't always the magichating man he is today. Here he reflects on how Petunia changed him while he's listening to Harry talk about Hogwarts.


Vernon Before Petunia

Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter ::sticks tongue out like the mature fifteen year old she is::

Vernon Dursley looked warily at his nephew. The thought had been bugging him for quite some time now, and now was his chance. Petunia and Dudley had already left the dinner tabel, leaving Harry to clean the mess left on their plates like always.

Usually Vernon would have left by now too, and if Harry noticed he was still sitting at the table be didn't say anything. Vernon paused, gathering his courage, then begun to speak, still not sure if it was a good idea or not.

"Boy!" Vernon barked at him. Harry paused in scraping left over mashed potatos from Petunia's plate into the garbage. He looked up through his ebony bangs, and when he met his uncle's gaze, Vernon started.

Physicaly, Harry Poitter was a scrawny thing. But in his brilliant green eyes, Vernon saw that this boy was more mature than his Dudley could ever hope to be. Now Vernon was aware of his sons doings, though he chose to ignore them, but none of that could compare to this. Harry had seen things that—what was the word that oaf Hagrid used all those years ago?—muggles like the Dursleys could only imagine.

Perhaps some of what he'd seen was what kept him up at night, crying. Vernon could often hear miggled sobbs coming from the boy's room at night. And sometimes when he called him, Harry would come out of his room with red puffy eyes. Yes, Vernon sometimes wondered what exactly this fifteen-year-old boy had seen to make his eyes this jaded.

"Uncle Vernon?" the voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Harry had been looking at him with confusion on his face, and Vernon realised that he'd been staring for quite a while.

"Oh! Yes, well…" he stumbled over his words. What _had_ he been going to ask? "When this…Voldy-thingy was defeated, I saw a number of strange things. _Your_ kind celebrating I imagine. And I saw…well…Do you know any tabby cats that look at signs and read maps?" he said this all very quickly, for although he now had a little higher opinion of the boy, any talk at all about _his_ kind still made him a bit weirded out.

Harry looked even more confused for a few moments. Then comprehension dawned on his face.

"Did this tabby happen to have markings around in the shapes of glasses around it's eyes?" he asked. The corners of his mouth twitched. Vernon thought back to that night, and brought up a vision of the cat reading a map. Yes, if he thought of it he could see markinds around the cats eyes that looked like glasses. It contributed to the effect that it was reading. Vernon nodded his head in answer to Harry's question.

Now Harry did smile. Vernon tried to remember the last time he had seen the boy so much as smirk, and his mind came up with a blank. Dear God, did they treat him that bad? The last time hesmirked was telling Vernon that his Godfather was a convict, and on the run from a wizard prizon that no one had ever broken out of before. Didn't Harry mention something about him dying?

Harry was still smiling, only now it was more if a grin. "I think that was Professor McGonagall. She teaches Transfiguration. She's an animagus." Before Vernon opened his mouth to ask what an "animawhatsits" was, Harry was explaning. "An animagus is a person who has the ability to transform into an animal at will. The prof. is a tabby cat. I bet she was checking you guys out to see if I could grow up here." Still smiling. "It's really hard to become one. It takes years of practice, and it's very carfully monitered by the Ministry of Magic. There are only seven registered animagus' in the world. At least there were when Hermione told this to me two years ago. My dad was one of the _un_registered animagus'. He and his friends."

The words were flying out of Harry's mouth. It was almost as if he was afraid that if he stopped talking for even a second, Vernon would ground him or something. But Vernon understood. Harry _needed_ to tell this to someone that didn't already know it. For the first time since he met Petunia, he fully believed in magic.

When he was little, he used to dream of magic and things like that. But then he had met and fallen in love with Petunia Evans and that was the end of his magic daydreaming days. She despised magic and anything 'abnormal'. He had tried to fall out of love with her, but once love had it's hooks in you, it'll never let go.

Then they had gotten married, and she'd told him _why_ she hated magic. Because she too had dreamed of magic when she was a little girl. Of being swept away into a fantasy world where you could do anything you wanted. The when she was fourteen, her little sister Lily got a letter from a place called "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry". It told her that she was to go to a school for others with magical talents like her.

Petunia had been furious that it was her sister, with whom she had never gotten along with in the first place, who got the letter to go off to another world, and not her. And for the rest of her life, she had vowed she would hate magic in any shape or form. Vernon desperatly wanted to meet Lily the Witch, as he called her. But Petunia had spent weeks before he met Lily for the first time beating every magic-loving fiber out of his body. When he met Lily, she was no longer Lily the Witch, but Lily, His Wifes Evil Little Sister. Then Lily got married and had a child, Harry. The rest we already know.

But as Vernon Dursley sat at their kitchen table years later, listening to Lily Potter's son tell him of his own adventures at the place called Hogwarts, that part of him came back to life. In the event that Harry _did_ stop for air, as even wizarding folk need air, Vernon urged him on with questions about his years at Hogwarts.

Harry kept talking. He told Uncle Vernon all about Hermione, and Ron, and the rest of his friends, along with his non-friends, and everything that had happened to him at Hogwarts.

He couldn't believe this man sitting in front of him was _his_ Uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon had this wide-eyed look on his face, and looked generally happy. Harry shook his head and kept talking.

The two talked long into the night, and leared more things about each other than they'd ever known. When Harry started to cry while talking about Sirius' death, Vernon did the most unlikly thing. He hugged his nephew. Harry stopped talking out of pure shock. Eventually his wits returned to him and he placed his arms around Vernon as well.

Harry fell asleep first. He nodded off while answering a question Vernon had asked. Vernon picked Harry up and (with a mental note to make sure the boy ate more) carried him up the stares to his bedroom. He tucked him in, and smiled when Harry murmered, "…'member Ron, you're bigger 'n most spiders…"

Both knew that their lives had been changed. Harry would no longer dred returning to Number 4 Privet Drive in the summers, because he had a family member who didn't hate him. And Vernon would look forward to learning just how many things he had fantasized about as a kid were actually a reality to Harry.

THE END

A/N This is a one-shot. Do not ask for more. Please. I wrote this in about two hours. Stupid plot bunny. Please R&R.


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